Mia the Magnificent

Mia the Magnificent by Eileen Boggess Read Free Book Online

Book: Mia the Magnificent by Eileen Boggess Read Free Book Online
Authors: Eileen Boggess
not the person who should be teaching him anything on that subject. You don’t even know what that word means.”
    “Forget I even said anything!” Chris exclaimed, shaking both of his arms free. “And just to shut you guys up, I’ll compromise with you. How about I play another game of basketball now and call Gina later?”
    I crossed my arms over my chest. “You should call her now.”
    “And I think you should call her in a few days,” Tim said.
    “You know what I think?” Kevin asked. “I think you both—”
    “Tim,” Mrs. Radford called from their house, “some girl named Alyssa is on the phone. She says she’s returning your call. Do you want me to take a message?”
    “No,” Tim shouted back. “I’ll take it. I’ll be there in a second.”
    I stared at him in disbelief. “What about making a girl wait to take your call?”
    Tim handed the basketball to me and grinned. “You have to shake things up a bit to keep girls guessing what’s going to happen next. Sometimes I take their calls, sometimes I make them wait. I’m a man of mystery. It’s why you like me so much.”
    “The only mystery is that I ever liked you at all,” I replied, “And not that I care, but does Cassie know about you and Alyssa?”
    “I told you, Cassie and I aren’t serious and Alyssa and I are just friends,” Tim said as he jogged toward his house. “But just to be safe—because you know how Cassie can be—I’d appreciate it if youkept this Alyssa thing to yourself for now.”
    As he disappeared through the back door of his house, Chris whistled in admiration. “Man, does that guy know how to get chicks, or what?”
    I shook my head. Chris was right: Tim definitely knew how to get girls. It was just too bad he didn’t know how to treat them once he got them.

Chapter
Seven
    The following Monday, Zoë pulled the sides of her black sweatshirt closer together and asked, “Where’s our new driving teacher? It’s freakin’ freezing out here.”
    “I don’t know,” I replied, hunching my shoulders up to my ears to shield them from the harsh fall wind that had blown into Iowa over the weekend. “I still can’t believe Mr. Bodey quit teaching entirely. What’s he going to do for money?”
    “Mr. Bodey’s used to driving around in yellow cars. Maybe he can be a delivery guy for Cluck a Buck,” Tim replied.
    Jake smacked his lips. “Their chicken’s off the hizzle fo’ shizzle.”
    Zoë flicked Jake on the side of the head. “Try and stick to the subject.”
    “What?” Jake said, rubbing his head. “I thought we was talkin’ ’bout chicken.”
    “I just hope whoever they hired is better than Mr. Bodey,” Zoë said. “He was kind of tense.”
    I stomped my feet on the ground to get my circulation going. “Yeah, let’s hope our next teacher is more fun.”
    “Well, butter my behind and call me a biscuit. Lookee who’s here!”
    The sudden chill that crept up my spine had nothing to do with the weather. As I stared at the older man in the Wrangler jeans, striding toward us in his cowboy boots, I stammered, “Mr. Corrigan! W-w-what are you doing here?”
    “Don’t ya know?” said Mr. Corrigan, hitching up his jeans. “Besides bein’ a maintenance man—which is just an uppity way of sayin’ janitor at St. Hilary’s—I’m also a gen-u-ine driver’s ed teacher.The driving school called me on account of Mr. Bodey’s high-tailing it out of here quicker than a fox chased by a pack of hound dogs.”
    Zoë looked over her shoulder. “Is this guy for real or am I being punked?”
    “Oh, no,” I mumbled. “He’s for real.”
    Mr. Corrigan was the head custodian at St. Hilary’s and also a part-time DJ. Last year, I’d made the mistake of hiring him to emcee our dance, not realizing that his repertoire consisted entirely of fiddle music and square dance calls. Needless to say, it was a dance that will be remembered at every class reunion until the end of time.
    “Well, I’ll be a

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